Intermission
by erindarroch
Summary: Han and Leia take a break on the way to Bespin. Co-written with Justine Graham. Thumbnail art by Laura Quiles.
1. Chapter 1

**Intermission**

 **by Erin Darroch and Justine Graham**

 **A/N:** _Surprise!_ This little tidbit was crafted for our dear Knighted Rogue, with all our love and best wishes for a very happy birthday! _(Psst!_ We borrowed your enviro-shield thingy for the shower….)

 **Rating:** Rated 'T' for non-explicit minor suggestive adult themes.

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Han drifted slowly up from a deep sleep, rising from the depths of an incredible dream as if borne upon the gentlest wave. As consciousness gradually returned, he became intensely aware of the woman who lay nestled in the crook of his arm, her compact body snug and warm against his own—and suddenly full mental alertness came surging back with a happy jolt. He cracked open one eye and tilted his chin down to peer at the top of his companion's head, feeling a beatific smile begin to stretch across his face as he took in the sight. The sense of amazed joy and wonder that had accompanied him into slumber now returned in a vivid rush and sent his heart bounding in his chest as he dropped his head back onto the pillow and heaved a contented sigh. His smile grew wider still.

 _So it wasn't a dream._

Han wasn't a religious man, nor one prone to superstitions or irrational beliefs. But he spared a moment nevertheless to send a silent thanks to whatever mysterious forces might be responsible for the latest turn of events.

Leia's petite form was half-draped across his, her warm weight a welcome anchor, with one small hand splayed across his bare abdomen and one slim leg thrown over his hip. It was the same position in which they'd drifted off to sleep, happily fatigued in the wake of their parting for the third time that night.

Han released an incredulous chuff of air. _Three times in twelve hours?_ Such joyous and nearly inexhaustible fervour was utterly unprecedented in his experience. But it wasn't the only unique aspect of the evening they'd just spent together. Trapped in close quarters aboard his small ship, with nowhere to run and few places to hide, they had finally been forced to confront their true feelings—and then to face one another—with bittersweet memories of Hoth and their last mission together, and all of the misunderstandings and calamities of the past few months, whirling in their minds.

Han's pulse jumped as he recalled the intense and momentous events of the night before. On the edge of desperation where his relationship with Leia was concerned, he'd made the first move back in the direction of where they'd left off on Ord Mantell, daring to breach her reflexive and increasingly feeble defenses with a last-ditch kiss. To his relief and delight, she had turned the tables on him then, responding not with outrage or dismissal, nor with frosty indifference, but with warm capitulation, guiding his mouth back to hers, whispering willingness and consent, and simultaneously laying down a challenge that made the blood thrum in his veins.

 _Okay, Hotshot._

Han's head was still spinning from the impact of that momentous event—though it had taken them a while to recover the mood after Threepio's untimely interruption. But inevitably, after settling the most pressing practical matters of destination and survival, they'd been drawn together once more, compelled to engage at last in an extensive discussion of the only remaining point of contention between them: Han's imminent departure from the Alliance.

And what a conversation it had been.

Leia, true to her nature and apparently having now made up her mind, had gone _all-in,_ taking Han's breath away in the process. His heart clenched at the memory of how bravely she had shed the last, tattered pieces of her emotional armour. Beautiful Leia, with her big brown eyes shining and the faintest of trembles in her delicate chin, had finally laid her heart bare, erasing in an instant every doubt that had plagued Han's mind since the debacle on Ord Mantell. She still wasn't at all happy about his plans to face Jabba on his own, of course, but at least she was no longer fooling herself—or trying to fool him—about the true nature of her feelings.

Witnessing that bravery and the depth of her emotion had been at once humbling and liberating to Han. As his defenses crumbled to dust, he'd found the courage to make his own confession, all of the words locked away in the sheltered corners of his heart finally spilling out of him in a torrent.

 _Fuck it,_ he'd thought wildly, his stomach doing flips as he took the plunge. _If she's all-in, I'm all-in, too._

And like the final tap of the sculptor's chisel, the heaviest piece of the obstruction between them fell away, revealing the first true glimpse of the shape beneath. They were _in love_ ; deeply, indelibly bound together in a connection forged slowly over time, and made even stronger now by its open acknowledgement. Han's throat tightened, remembering those tender confessions. What Leia had said to him and what he had said to her in return—both the words and the nearly-overwhelming rush of emotion that had accompanied them—would be burned into his heart forever. Tilting his head down, he pressed a reverent kiss into her fragrant hair.

The faint floral scent flooded his senses and triggered even more memories—vivid recollections of the passionate aftermath of those terrifying and exhilarating moments, when all of the yearning that had been pent up inside them for years had been released in a frenzied flood of desire. They'd fallen upon one another almost ravenously at first, desperate to make up for lost time, unable to get enough of each other. The hours that followed—seemingly endless spans of time filled with gratified sighs and shared laughter, whispered reaffirmations and the silent wonder that came with discovering one another for the first time—had been the most intimate and intense of Han's life. Their first union had been the purest physical expression of love that he had ever known and the second, a few hours later, had only intensified that connection. The third time—initiated by Leia's hand gliding with purpose over his hip, waking him from a sound sleep—had felt as natural and right as waking up with her in his arms felt now.

Han lifted his head slightly to glimpse the chrono embedded in the bulkhead at his feet and felt his eyebrows climb. That last sweet interlude between them had taken place more than an hour before, in the small hours of the ship's "morning" cycle. They'd been sequestered in the bunkroom now for much longer than he'd anticipated and he was suddenly acutely aware of how long he'd been absent from his usual post. Chewie would understand—hell, he understood better than anyone what it had taken for him and Leia to get to this point. But Bespin was a very long way away, and there was much work to be done to get them there. It was time to move.

But he didn't move; not right away. The feeling of holding Leia as she slept was the fulfilment of a longed-for wish and Han was loath to bring the interlude to an end. He lingered for a while, revelling in the novel and thrilling sensation of her warm breath tickling his bare skin, and the feel of her soft body pressed intimately against his own. To his astonishment, he felt the first stirrings of reawakening desire and had to suppress the impulse to laugh out loud. At thirty-two, he was in his prime and he had ached for Leia for a long, long time—but even so, his body's perpetual state of readiness was remarkable and kind of amusing. Although he now keenly regretted having arranged with Chewie to get an early start on their lengthy list of repairs before they'd parted ways last evening, he reckoned it was probably a good thing he had an excuse to leave the bed.

Shifting just enough, he angled his head back against the pillow so that he could watch Leia as she slept. In the faint blue glow of the overhead light, he could see her dark lashes twitching against her cheeks as if she were in the throes of a dream. He tightened his arm around her, fingertips absently stroking the thick strands of silken hair that tumbled down her back. Gods, she was beautiful. But the thing that really made his heart trip over itself was the newfound certainty that she truly _did_ love him and want him, the way he had loved and wanted her for so long. That felt like the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he still couldn't quite believe his luck. Unable to resist the urge, he stretched down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, and then another, and another.

Reflexively, Leia's fingers curled against his abdomen. A warm wave of affection surged through Han as she stirred and turned her face inward, burrowing her nose into his chest with the most adorable snuffling sound. Her eyes opened slowly and she lifted her head, her half-lidded gaze wandering about the darkened cabin with a befuddled expression before settling blearily on his face.

"Time is it.…?" she mumbled in a voice thick with sleep.

Han smiled down at her upturned face. "Early," he returned in low whisper.

"Mmm...oughta get up," she breathed, though she made no effort to disentangle herself from his embrace. Instead, she nestled a little tighter into him and closed her eyes once more, and within moments had seemingly drifted off again.

He gathered her a little closer, tilting his head to press another soft kiss into her hair. He couldn't blame her for being exhausted; the frantic escape from Hoth had taken a toll on them all, and the emotional wringer they'd subsequently put themselves through hadn't helped matters. Add to that the fact that they'd only slept a few hours at a time through the night and it was no wonder if Leia needed a little more rest. The first item on the day's schedule of repairs had been to refit the aft power converter's cooling units, and he was counting on her small hands to help him swap out the blown condensers. For a brief moment he considered gently nudging her awake again, but quickly revised his plans. There was no point in both of them being dead on their feet, he reasoned, when there was no shortage of things he could do on his own or with Chewie to bring the ship back to full functionality. The condensers could wait. And besides, Leia looked more relaxed and peaceful than he'd ever seen, and he knew that no one was more deserving of a bit of peace. It was best to let her slumber just a little while longer.

Reaching up to the panel overhead, he increased the light level just enough to see his way clearly, and then carefully inched away, moving with glacial slowness to avoid jostling Leia too much. He eased out of the bunk and then dropped to one knee to sort through the mix of discarded clothing that lay strewn across the deck plates. Finally finding his own garments, he dressed quietly at the edge of the bunk, keeping a watchful eye on Leia's slumbering form. Then, keeping his footsteps light, he crept to the hatch and palmed the controls. Turning back toward the bunk, he held his breath until the noisy whirr of the hatch subsided, releasing it only when Leia shifted and curled up on her side, and then was still once more.

With her dark hair fanned out all around her and her delicate features relaxed in repose, Leia struck such an alluring image that Han felt his whole body tighten in response. He was seized by the sudden urge to return to the bunk and crawl back in beside her, kiss her awake and show her all over again what she meant to him. But there would be time enough for that later, he counselled himself, as he lowered the cabin lights from the hatchside panel and turned away. Right now Chewie was waiting, and Han couldn't let his friend down.

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To be continued in chapter two...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Slumped down in the captain's chair, Han awakened with a jolt on the crest of a snore, blinking bleary eyes weighted with sleep against the brightness of the status lights that winked on and off throughout the darkened cockpit. Scrubbing one hand over his face, he squinted at the steady blue glow of the chrono embedded in the central dash. A little over an hour had passed since he had ventured into the cockpit and set about the tedious task of testing the relay between the navigational drive and the _Falcon_ 's main computer system.

Feeling a strain in his lower back from his awkward positioning, he gripped the chair's padded armrests and planted his booted feet firmly on the deck plates to hitch himself upright. As he did so, the toe of one foot connected with the open tool kit that lay out of sight at his feet, spilling its contents with a loud clatter of metal-on-metal. He jerked upright and glanced down at the floor, taking in the array of scattered implements, the open access panel below the dash, and the knot of wires that dangled over the edge onto the deck plates. His tired brain struggled to catch up and recall exactly what he'd been doing before he drifted off, and why the toolbox was down there in the first place.

With one cup of Chewie's strong kaffe under his belt, he had started out the first of his tasks feeling relatively alert and with the best of intentions. But, within a few minutes of manually cross-referencing the calculations, the complex algorithms had begun to drift and swirl in the churning eddies of his foggy brain. The last thing he remembered was sinking down into the pilot's seat to rest his weary eyes, promising himself he'd get back to work soon. According to the chrono, twenty minutes had since passed.

He scanned the dashboard now for any signs of fresh malfunctions—the escape from Hoth had been hard on the _Falcon_ , too—but seeing nothing of consequence that he wasn't already expecting, he eased out of his chair and then dropped into a crouch to begin gathering up his scattered tools. Once the deck plates were clear and the toolkit back in order, he closed it up and set it to one side before turning back to attend to the tangle of exposed circuitry. As he did so, a blinking amber light on the systems panel to his left caught his eye.

His head jerked up and a slow smile began to stretch across his face. That particular light meant that the water recycler in the main fresher had been engaged, which meant that Leia was awake. His heart gave a little lurch, envisioning her padding softly to the fresher with her bare skin prickling in the relative chill of the cabin air. He shook his head to clear it, and fought to drag his attention back to his task. But when a low tone sounded and a second light winked on beside the first, indicating that the real-water shower had been activated, his pulse trebled with a jolt. He sat back on his heels and simply gaped in wonder at the blinking light.

 _Leia._

 _In the shower._

It wasn't as though he had never entertained thoughts about _that_ before, but now he knew exactly what she looked like with her clothes off, which added a whole new dimension to the fantasy. And it didn't take much for him to imagine how she would look with her long hair wet and plastered to her lovely curves, with soapy bubbles sliding down her smooth skin. Leia had a fondness for long, hot showers— _very_ long, judging by his observations during their shared missions over the stretch. He glanced at the chrono again and made a swift calculation as a new possibility entered his mind for the first time: _maybe I could join her._ That notion and the fleeting mental imagery that accompanied it derailed his thoughts completely, shifting his imagination into overdrive.

Straightening, he moved back to the captain's chair and sat down, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he considered his options. He _could_ haul ass back to the engineering bay, he reckoned, and repurpose Goldenrod to take his place in attending to the nav computer. But that would take time and, in any case, he sorely needed the vexatious protocol droid to stay in communication with the _Falcon_ to deliver real-time diagnostics. Alternatively, he supposed he could find Chewie and pass the task on to him. His co-pilot was just as capable of manually verifying the hyperspace algorithms as he was, and of patching the relay boards back together as well. But the Wookiee normally left such manually dexterous work to Han, and his large frame made manoeuvring in the cramped space under the dash extremely difficult. And even if he did find Chewie in a hurry and get his agreement, just how was Han supposed to explain his actions?

 _Uh, sorry pal, but Leia's naked in the shower right now and if I hurry I can get in there with her…. ?_

He winced and gave a rueful chuckle at his own hopelessly besotted condition. Sure, Chewie would understand and he _probably_ wouldn't give Han a hard time over it—at least, not right away. Han reckoned he'd be safe from the Wookiee's merciless teasing for at least a week or two, anyway. The big mophead had been urging him for months to _do something_ about the fractured state of his relationship with Leia, so he couldn't really complain if things between them had finally moved along, could he? Satisfied with that reasoning, Han was on the verge of shirking his responsibilities for the first time in his history when the amber light on the dash winked a final time, and then went dark.

He released a pent-up breath and slouched down in his chair, dismayed. He was too late. For some reason, Leia seemed to have decided against having one of her legendary half-hour showers this time. He watched the panel for a moment longer before dropping his gaze back to the trailing wires at his feet and giving his head a slow, doleful shake. He needed to get hold of himself. This job was taking far longer than it should, and he had already lost far too much time to reverie—time that he could later spend with Leia, if he could just bring himself to focus and get things done. Shaking off the alluring mental images that kept edging into his thoughts—of Leia stepping out, drying off, getting dressed—he reached into the open access panel and determinedly got back to work.

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Leia drifted awake in the empty bunk, turning her face into the pillow and breathing in the familiar scent that lingered there. As her eyes fluttered open and her mind began to process her surroundings—the darkened cabin, the clothes scattered on the deck plates—the events of the night before came trickling back to her in a warm, comforting, and yet thoroughly astonishing stream of recollection.

She lay there for a long moment, letting the flood of vivid memories wash over her, before shifting onto her back and stretching out her limbs. As she moved, she felt every scrape and bruise she'd sustained during their turbulent escape from Echo Base, but she also became aware of a few new aches in other places—far more pleasant aches, mingled as they were with such treasured memories of the night just past. She smiled to herself and reached for the edge of the thin coverlet, pulling it up over her shoulder as she turned and curled up on her other side, blinking away the last of her drowsiness. Her movement stirred up a faint but evocative scent from the sheets once more and she felt a blush heat her cheeks in response, though there was no one nearby to witness it.

Fully awake now, she nevertheless decided to linger in bed for a moment longer, reliving every delectable minute of their first intimate night together. Han's warm, strong hands roaming over her skin; the feel of his long, magnificent body between her thighs; his lips and teeth and tongue doing things to her she'd only been able to imagine before. She bit her lip against a smile, thinking how far superior the reality had been to all of her fantasies. Finally allowing herself to indulge her deepest desires had felt like the wildest kind of freedom she'd ever known.

And indulge her desires, she certainly had.

Her smile broadened a little further, recalling how she'd reached for Han in the night, and how he'd responded with alacrity and passion, rolling her onto her back and then devouring her with all the tender fervour of the first two glorious interludes only hours before. There was no way to describe the wonder of it all, the seamless blending of heart, body and mind fused into the physical expression of their feelings, every careful touch and gentle caress reaffirming that their hearts were safe in each other's hands.

Just before she'd made that bold advance, though, she had awoken in the quiet stillness of the darkened cabin and simply listened for a while to the sound of Han's breathing. They'd slept together before—that is, over the years, necessity had required them occasionally to doze in close proximity, sharing sleep sacks, bunks, and even the occasional ditch. Han was always especially wary in those situations, though, never relinquishing full consciousness, and twitching awake at the faintest noise. Watching him in the depths of sleep this time, his body utterly free of tension and his breathing deep and even, had been strangely moving for Leia. The trust implicit in such sound slumber made her heart ache in the sweetest way.

She threw back the covers and sat up, suddenly filled with an overwhelming desire to see him again. Not for reassurance—she had no further need of that. She had finally seen the heartfelt promise in his eyes and felt it in his touch, and she didn't require any more proof that what Han felt for her was sincere. What she needed was simply to touch him again, to hear his voice, and feel the solid strength of his arms enveloping her in his warm embrace. Like an addict seeking another hit of spice, she craved more of the deep intimacy that they'd discovered together, the closeness which they'd denied themselves for far too long. She glanced at the chrono at the foot of the bunk, surprised to see that the time was much later than she'd expected. Han was no doubt already hard at work on the tasks he'd set for himself, and she was determined to do her part to get them all safely through the Anoat system without further mishap.

Reaching overhead, she turned on the main cabin lights, and then slipped out of the bunk and headed for the fresher. As keen as she was to see Han again, she needed a shower first, and then a brief stopover at the galley for a hot cup of kaffe was definitely in order. She would grab a cup for Han, as well, which would give her a good excuse—as if she needed one now—to seek him out. She smirked at herself, thinking _old habits die hard._

In the fresher, Leia opted to engage the real-water recycler rather than the sonics—Han and Chewie had assured her that their supply of filters and recyclable water was more than sufficient for their needs, and she infinitely preferred its cleansing effects to the relatively dry pummelling of ultrasonic jets. She programmed the thermal regulator to her desired temperature, and then stepped inside and palmed the controls to activate the fresher barrier. The enviro-web that contained the water spray within the confines of the tiled enclosure surged to life with a low hum of vibration, automatically triggering the flow of steaming water as well. Leia turned her back to the jets and angled under the spray, closing her eyes and allowing her head to drop back with a gratified sigh. The hot water soaked through her hair and sluiced down over her skin, and every part of her body where the warm rivulets flowed seemed to tingle with the memory of Han's hands, the gentle caress of his lips, the silken slide of his tongue.

She wrapped her arms around herself, clinging to the memory and to the sweet sensations that seemed to linger all over. Every nerve ending felt alive in an entirely new way, leaving her in a state of perpetual yearning for his touch. But it was more than just astounding physical sensations that had been awakened; some fundamental switch in her mind seemed to have been flipped as well, in the instant of their shared admissions. Han's earnest and tender words resonated in Leia's heart like the chime of a single, perfect bell, instilling within her the courage to take the most monumental leap of her life so far: daring to set aside her fears about the future, and allowing herself to love and be loved in return.

Turning toward the steamy spray, she extended a hand to the dispenser embedded in the bulkhead. The rich scent of Alderaani jasmine drifted up as a small measure of the shampoo that Han kept stocked for her dropped into her palm. Rubbing her hands together, she then smoothed the fragrant liquid through to the ends of her long hair. Truth be told, she mused as she worked the pearlescent fluid into a rich lather, she'd known for a long time that Han was in love with her. And although she had promptly resumed making heated denials in the wake of the disastrous mission to Ord Mantell, she wasn't at all deluded about her own feelings for him, either. It was just that she was a realist, and she'd already lost so much. Her misgivings about Han had hinged mainly upon his capacity for commitment—and the wisdom of giving her heart to a man who continually threatened to break it. His abrupt reversal after their encounter with the bounty hunters had left Leia feeling profoundly hurt and betrayed, as well as frustrated and furious with herself for the depth of her own heartache. _Oh,_ how she'd chastised herself for a fool!

But his appearance at her side during the Empire's attack on Echo Base had changed everything. In that moment, she'd finally grasped that the commitment she had been looking for was standing right in front of her, staring her in the face, gripping her by the upper arm. None of the words she'd been waiting to hear from him could have had the impact of his steadfast presence in the midst of that chaos and danger, and any remaining doubts had been laid to rest with that memorable kiss, and in the course of the intense and life-changing conversation that had followed.

Now, still uncertain about what lay ahead of them at the end of this unexpected journey, but with the true nature of their feelings for each other finally revealed, Leia was determined to stop fretting so much about the future. Sure, Han still had a debt to repay to a dangerous gangster, and that threat loomed over him like a sinister shroud waiting to descend. But Leia's fundamental realism was leavened by a strong optimistic streak, too, and a firm belief in the strengths they possessed as a team. _Han loved her_ , and she loved him, and she now believed they could—and would—solve the problem together, with the help of their friends and allies. In the meantime, they'd been granted a brief reprieve from the demands of war and work, and she was determined to make the most of it.

To that end, she hurriedly rinsed the suds from her hair, lathered her skin with soap, and then sluiced off her body and palmed the controls, bringing her shower to an unusually early end. Using a combination of the hot-air dryers and one of Han's ancient, threadbare towels, she hurried through the rest of her routine and finally emerged from the fresher with her mostly-dry hair piled in a messy knot at the crown of her head. The chill air of the cabin kissed her skin and raised pebbled flesh all over her body, and she hastened to sort through and dress herself from the stack of clothing that Han had allocated to her from his own limited wardrobe, eager to be on her way.

Venturing at last into the main hold a few minutes later, Leia was surprised to see Chewie waiting for her, his large frame wedged behind the holochess table at one end of the curved acceleration couch. He held the massive tankard from which he usually drank his kaffe in one broad paw, and gestured with the other toward a considerably smaller mug that sat across from him on the checkered table top.

 _[*Good morning, Little Princess,*]_ he said in his low, wavering growl. [* _I heard the recycler as I passed by on my way to the galley. Your timing is perfect. The kaffe is hot and fresh. Come, sit a while, and enjoy.*]_

Leia felt the buoyant wave of enthusiasm and anticipation upon which she'd floated out of the cabin ebb just a little. Her eyes dropped to the steaming mug while she swiftly considered Chewie's offer. She didn't really want to linger here any longer than necessary—she wanted more than anything to go find Han and kiss him senseless—but neither could she refuse the Wookiee's kind gesture. She nodded in acquiescence, mustered a smile, and then slid into the empty space on the opposite end of the couch. Lifting the cup, she brought it to her lips and took a moment to savour the rich aroma that wafted up in the fragrant steam. Then she took a long sip that ended on a grateful sigh, relishing the rush of comforting warmth that spread swiftly through to her limbs. Chewie did make the _best_ kaffe.

"Thank you," she murmured over the rim, gracing him with a genuine smile. "I really needed that. I'm a little tired this morning."

Chewie gave a knowing chuckle. _[*That comes as no surprise. Did you two sleep at all?*]_

Leia's hand froze with the mug poised halfway to her lips for a second sip, and flicked her eyes up to meet Chewie's gaze. There was a fond sparkle in his azure eyes, a perspicacious glint that instantly raised a hot flush to her cheeks.

 _He knew._

She swallowed hard, feeling the flush creep slowly down her neck. Chewie was a wise being, observant and astute, and he had auditory and olfactory senses ten times that of any human. She should have known that the monumental shift in her relationship with Han would not go unnoticed. Willing her hand not to tremble, she lifted her mug the rest of the way to her lips and took a sip. Then, striving for as unaffected a tone as she could manage, she said:

"You've...spoken to Han this morning, then?" She rested her cup on the table and silently congratulated herself on the even timbre of her voice.

 _[*Only in passing_. _He mumbled something on his way to the cockpit. He is still there now, bringing the navigational systems back online.*]_

Leia's heart sank a little, and her gaze along with it, focusing instead on the tendrils of steam rising up from her cup. Recalibrating the nav computer was one of the most intensive endeavours possible, requiring keen focus and absolute concentration. One miscalculation in the algorithm code could jump them squarely back in the midst of the Imperial fleet, or worse—directly into the heart of a star. There was no way she could wander in there now, and risk distracting Han in the middle of such a crucial task. She would just have to wait until he was finished.

 _[*Princess.*]_

She glanced upwards, finding herself the focal point of Chewie's pointed stare. His bright blue eyes were mirthful, and his lips peeled back from his teeth in the Wookiee approximation of a proud grin.

 _[*I am pleased that we were made to flee Echo Base.*]_

Leia's blinked at the abrupt shift in topic, her brows knitting together in confusion. Though her command of Shyriiwook had certainly improved with Chewie's tutelage over the years, there were still times when the subtleties of his native tongue confounded her. She cast a glance around the hold, wondering where Threepio was when she needed him, and then gave Chewie a quizzical look. "I don't understand. It sounded like you said you were _happy_ that the Imperials attacked the base?"

Chewie shook his shaggy head. _[*No. I am happy that circumstances were such that we were made to flee the base_ together _. Were it not for that, you would be travelling to the next rendezvous now, and Cub and I would be on our way to Tatooine.*]_

"Ah." Leia tilted her head back in understanding, feeling a little smile playing around the corners of her mouth. "I'm happy about that, too."

Chewie's grin grew broader and he waggled his hairy eyebrows. _[*_ Very _happy, I see.*]_

Leia's cheeks grew warm again. She pressed her lips together, striving to maintain her composure in the face of Chewie's gentle teasing. It was a mark of true friendship, she knew, for him to feel comfortable enough to goad her in this friendly fashion, the way he so often did with Han. She gave a little laugh. "Yes. Very happy."

 _[*Cub looked 'very happy', too*]_ Chewie opined, taking another gulp from his tankard. _[*Happier than I have ever seen him.*]_

Leia flushed again, this time with great pleasure at the import of Chewie's comment. "He came back for me," she murmured, eyeing her companion as she reclaimed her mug and took another sip of kaffe. "He risked his life, and yours too. When I saw him standing there, I…." She trailed off with an incredulous shake of her head. "I still can't quite believe that he did that."

 _[*I can believe it. He has loved you for a very long time, Little Princess.*]_

Leia let her friend's rumbling voice wash over her, the truth of his words resonating deep within her heart. Lost in thought, she didn't immediately notice when Chewie shifted his massive frame to the end of the acceleration couch and then rose ponderously to his feet.

 _[*Stay here. I will be right back.*]_

Curious, Leia cradled her mug in both hands and nodded her acquiescence as the big Wookiee shuffled off in the direction of the galley. A moment later, she heard the clanking of cookware and utensils being handled, followed shortly by the faint aroma of…wait—was that _panna cakes?_ Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled in response.

She glanced towards the side of the hold leading to the cockpit, her thoughts turning briefly to Han once more. He would be hungry too, and Chewie always served portions more suited to a Wookiee's appetite than a human's. Maybe she should go and fetch him, after all. It might be good for Han to take a break, have some breakfast, and then return to his task refreshed...

Turning her gaze back to the holochess table, Leia dismissed the idea with a sigh of resignation. As much as Chewie's words had touched her deeply and intensified her desire to be in Han's company again, she was resolved to wait. The safety of the ship was paramount. She was disappointed, yet the steady thrum of anticipation underlying that dismay fuelled her motivation to get through her own list of duties expediently, in order to get back to the business of making up for lost time.

Perhaps they could work _together_ on some task, she mused; preferably somewhere tucked away in a remote corner of the ship where they wouldn't be disturbed. She smiled, thinking of the pure pleasure of Han's body warm and hard against her own, threading her fingers through his thick hair, pulling him down for a molten kiss...

A rumbling Wookiee chuckle jolted her back from her reverie with a soft gasp, and she glanced up to see Chewie standing quite nearby at her side, bearing a plate stacked high with steaming panna cakes in one massive paw, and two empty plates with utensils and a small tin balanced on top in the other.

 _[*You are as lost as he is,*]_ he said in a teasing growl as he bent to set the plates on the table _. [*I suspect that very little work will be done aboard this ship today.*]_

Leia set her mug down on the tabletop. "I'm sorry, Chewie," she replied in a rueful tone. "Thank you for breakfast. I'll eat as fast as I can and get right to work."

 _[*There is no need for that. I already attended to the most important assignments on your list while you were...occupied. The rest can wait.*]_ He straightened and, meeting her bewildered gaze with his blue eyes dancing, gave her a Wookiee grin. _[*Enjoy. The panna cakes are the traditional recipe, with real carbosyrup from my own supply. And now I am going to go relieve Cub of his current task so that he can join you for breakfast.*]_

He moved to turn away then, but Leia reached out, halting his retreat with a hand on his shaggy forearm. "Oh, Chewie," she said, deeply touched by his gesture. "You don't have to do that."

 _[*I know, Little One. But I wish to arrive at Bespin alive.*]_

Leia blinked, nonplussed, and withdrew her hand.

Chewbacca cocked one hairy eyebrow and levelled a knowing look down at Leia. _[*You and I both know that the Cub is in no fit state to recalibrate the nav computer.*]_

Leia bit her lip, nodding slowly in acknowledgement of her friend's astute assessment even as her face grew warm yet again."You...may be right about that."

Chewie gave a bark of laughter and headed off in the direction of the cockpit.

Sipping her kaffe around an irrepressible smile, Leia watched him go.

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

Alone in the lounge, Leia sat quietly listening to the low thrum of the ship's engines and trailing a finger absently along the rim of her mug. On the tabletop, a second mug now sat beside the stack of plates and fragrant panna cakes, along with a thermoregulated carafe filled with hot kaffe which she had quickly retrieved from the galley once Chewie had departed for the cockpit. Her own cup was nearly empty, and as she lifted it to her lips to drain the last dregs she heard the sound of Han's bootsteps on the deck plates. His familiar stride sent faint metallic echoes throughout the hold, which mirrored the little thrills that fluttered in her stomach, spiking in intensity at the sound of each advancing step. Setting her cup down, she turned her attention to the broad threshold leading on to the ring corridor and waited.

Han came around the corner in full stride, but pulled up short as his eyes fell upon Leia. He stood suspended on the threshold for an instant, and Leia found herself holding her breath as their eyes met and locked on one another.

Nothing had changed, and yet everything had.

Han looked exactly the same. His skin still had the same golden glow it always had, his hazel eyes were still warm and bright. But now she knew the taste and texture of that skin, knew the way those eyes darkened with desire, and the sounds he made when he was coming undone. It was the space _between_ them that felt different now. It bristled with newfound energy that flowed around them, a current of deep emotion sparked to life, like the completion of a live circuit in the wake of their electrifying mutual confessions.

Holding her gaze, Han's face lit up in a wide smile as he stepped down from the threshold and into the lounge, covering the distance between them in a few long strides. Leia shifted over to afford him room, reflecting his brilliant smile as he slid smoothly into the space beside her. She inched in his direction once more as soon as he settled down, brushing his leg with her own and sending a new thrill of anticipation arcing through her body.

"Good morning," he said in a low drawl as he slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. He angled his gaze down at her upturned face, a faint smile playing about his lips. "Sleep well?"

She smirked up at him. "When I slept at all, yes." She cocked an eyebrow. "And you?"

"Same. Think I got about four hours."

Leia pursed her lips in a mock expression of pity. "Poor guy. You must be exhausted."

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Han grinned.

For a long moment they simply looked at one another, breaths coming fast as they scanned each other's faces. Leia's heart swelled, seeing the light of love and commitment still very much present in Han's warm gaze. They were so close she could feel his heart beating in powerful counterpoint to her own. Everything had changed, and yet nothing had. He was still Han, and she was still Leia. They were just... _together._

His gaze dropped to her mouth and then he lowered his head as she stretched up to meet him halfway, their lips touching lightly in a soft, sweet kiss. They drew apart for a moment, eyes still scanning, and then shared another smile before leaning in for a second kiss, this one lingering and deepening as they pressed closer together. Han's mouth moved warmly against hers and Leia responded with gentle fervor, tenderly returning the heartfelt emotion she felt radiating from his presence, and wordlessly reaffirming the depths of her own.

When they finally parted on a mutual sigh, Leia watched as his gaze drifted over to the stack of panna cakes on the table, and smiled as he raised an amused and somewhat dubious eyebrow.

"Did you….?"

"Don't worry, Captain," she laughed as she shimmied away to give herself room to move, and then reached for the pot of kaffe. "Chewie made them." She filled Han's mug and then, setting the pot back on the tabletop, slid the steaming cup toward him. "Looks like our Wookiee friend is a bit of a romantic."

Han laughed. "He's a big sap, is what he is," he said, lifting his cup and taking a long sip of kaffe while Leia portioned the panna cakes and topped each stack with a liberal drizzling of syrup.

"Well, I think it's sweet," Leia opined, dredging her first forkful of panna cake in the sticky syrup and then lifting it to her mouth. " _Mmmm_ ," she breathed, licking her lips after the first delectable swallow.

Her stomach rumbling with hunger once more, she tucked eagerly into her breakfast, devouring bite after bite of fluffy cake dripping with rich syrup. Almost halfway through her plate, she glanced over at Han's and noticed that he hadn't eaten a bite—in fact, he had yet to even pick up his fork. Instead he sat reclined against the back of the acceleration couch, gazing at her with a look of fascination, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"What?" she mumbled around a mouthful of panna cake, then swallowed and added a little defensively, "It's delicious."

Han sat forward abruptly, swooping in to capture her lips in a warm kiss. Leia was startled, but recovered swiftly, lifting her free hand to his face and then melting against him as his mouth tenderly devoured her own.

" _Mmmm_...you're right," Han agreed as they finally parted. He gave her a wink. "Delicious."

Leia couldn't stop the smile that stretched across her face as she watched him finally lift his own fork and dig in to his food. He scooped a large portion of panna cake into his mouth and chewed with relish, waggling his eyebrows at her as he swallowed.

"Wanna help me refit the cooling units on the aft power converter after we eat?" he asked, continuing to eat with great enthusiasm.

Leia gave him a wry look. "Sure, if you think Chewie will trust us to do it right. He seems to think we're both somewhat incapacitated...due to... _developments_ ," she intoned, giving him a meaningful arch of her eyebrow in return.

Han guffawed and rested his fork on the edge of the plate, reaching for his cup instead. "Ah, Sweetheart," he said, taking a deep swallow of kaffe and then leaning back against the acceleration couch with a happy sigh. "Chewie knows we make a good team but...uh...he might be right. He almost caught me dozing again in the cockpit."

Leia snorted. "Well, Flyboy, maybe you should head back to bed."

"Me? What about you? C'mon, you can't tell me you're feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

She laughed at his turn of phrase. "Actually, I feel _wonderful,_ " she said, weighting her voice with sincerity. She _did_ feel wonderful: light as air, despite the woes of the recent past and the uncertainties of the near future. In the here-and-now, things were really pretty great. She started to speak again, but then had to cover her mouth to hide a yawn. Han smirked at her.

"Yes, okay," she admitted, stretching her arms over her head. "Maybe I could use a few more hours."

"Alright then," he said, setting down his cup and picking up his fork once more. "Let's finish up our breakfast, and then go back to bed."

Leia gave him a dubious look, though inwardly she thrilled at that suggestion spoken in Han's low timbre. She took another bite of her panna cakes and swallowed. "Isn't that how we got ourselves _incapacitated_ in the first place?"

"Well, Chewie _has_ given us the morning off..."

"And you want to use that time to sleep?"

"No, first I want to take a shower, and _then_ I want to sleep. And after that…." He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

 **The End**

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-

 **End note:** In case you're wondering, 59-year-old post-Areto Han is just fine. Still just as happy in 30ABY as he is here; maybe even happier!


End file.
